Distilled Water and Attack

Chapter 44: Distilled Water and Attack

"Is that so..." 

Rodney pondered for a moment, facing the boss's response, and asked, "Have you considered digging wells to access groundwater or exploring other methods to obtain fresh water?"

The boss shook his head and replied, "There's only one well in town. It used to provide enough groundwater for daily consumption after several rains a year. However, it has been depleted for over a year without rainfall. Freshwater is scarce, and that's why many people choose to leave. As for other methods you mentioned, I'm not aware of any. We have always relied on rainwater and groundwater to sustain us." Rodney fell silent. 

Logically speaking, distilled water could be obtained from seawater near the coast. While excessive consumption of distilled water is not beneficial to the human body, it can be a temporary solution to relieve immediate water scarcity. However, it seems that the people here are unaware of this.

He also noticed that the technological advancement in this world seemed uneven. Due to their isolated and closed-off lives, influenced by the surrounding sea, the people's lifestyles varied greatly. Some seemed to live in modern times, while others were reminiscent of the Middle Ages or even ancient times.

Their daily lives lacked vibrancy, and technological advancements seemed to primarily serve the upper class. The lower-class individuals had limited access to such advancements and continued to rely on ancient practices passed down through generations.

Even though there were people with modified abilities capable of emitting lasers, some still lived in ancient ways.

Rodney couldn't help but feel perplexed. How did this imbalance occur? Isn't technology supposed to benefit everyone?

The people in this world seemed to channel all their energy into warfare and paid little attention to the welfare of ordinary individuals. Productivity was low, and human life seemed to hold little value.

"Your sister!(1)" 

Rodney let out a frustrated exhale. He wasn't a science scholar and had no means to lead a technological revolution in this world. He could only do what was within his capabilities.

His perspective clashed with the values of this world, even though he had integrated himself to some extent. There was still a lingering discomfort.

Standing up, he asked the boss, "Do you have any concave glass? Even pot lids will do, but concave glass is preferable."

"Concave glass... Let me think. Yes, we have some. What do you plan to do with it?" the boss inquired.

"Just conducting an experiment," Rodney replied with a smile.

The boss fetched a large glass plate, typically used for serving dishes. Rodney also requested two pots—one large and one small.

They went to the Sandora River, where Rodney filled the larger pot with half seawater. He placed the smaller pot inside the larger one, buried it in the sand, and covered the larger pot with the concave glass facing downward.

Then, he left it exposed to the sun.

Curiosity piqued, the boss asked, "Guest, what are you doing?"

"I'm extracting fresh water from seawater," Rodney answered.

His words shocked the boss. "Extracting fresh water from seawater? You're not joking, are you?" 

Technology hadn't provided the boss with knowledge of distilled water, but they could distill fresh water from damp sand. However, they still relied on natural elements, praying for rain to survive. If it rained, they would live; if it didn't, they would face inevitable deaths. The water stored in the sand was meager.

While the concave glass caused some distortion, the seawater began to evaporate rapidly due to the sand and sun exposure. The water vapor rose, blocked by the concave glass, while Rodney spat out a mouthful of cool water, allowing the hot air to condense it into droplets.

Due to the curvature of the glass, the droplets moved toward the center and fell into the small pot, constantly replenishing the evaporating water.

Half of the water in the larger pot quickly evaporated. After Rodney brushed away the sand on one side, he retrieved the hot glass and the two pots. The smaller pot was now filled with warm distilled water, while the surface of the larger pot was covered in a layer of salt crystals, with a paste of saltwater at the bottom.

He handed the distilled water to the boss and said, "Try it."

Trembling, the boss took a sip of the water.

It was light, devoid of the salty taste of seawater. It tasted slightly different from regular drinking water, but it was undoubtedly fresh water.

Freshwater, extracted from seawater?

With tears in his eyes, holding the water, the boss cried and said, "If... if only you had come earlier, earlier, then fewer people would have left, and fewer lives would have been lost."

Rodney advised, "Although this is freshwater, drinking it in large quantities isn't good for the human body. Remember to consume more vegetables and other foods." 

Since distilled water lacks some essential trace elements required by the human body, excessive consumption is detrimental. It's best to supplement those elements through other means.

"Oh, and remember to store ice at night."

The temperature difference between day and night in the desert was significant. During the day, temperatures could reach 40 to 50 degrees Celsius, while at night, they would drop below freezing. Condensation was a crucial step in the distillation process. The water Rodney obtained was only slightly hotter than steam, making ice more effective.

He wrote down the necessary items and steps for distilled water on paper and handed it to the boss. To the boss, it was like a treasure, possessing knowledge that held their lives in balance.

Having water in the desert meant survival. No longer would they have to rely solely on the whims of the heavens. All thanks to the man standing before them.

"Guest, may I know your esteemed name?" the boss asked.

"Joestar J. Rodney. Remember each step, and it's best to customize a more efficient distillation setup," Rodney said, feeling rested and ready to depart.

"Lord Rodney, are you leaving? Can you stay a few more days? Once everyone knows what you've done, you will surely become famous, a national hero like Lord Crocodile," the boss said earnestly.

The boss believed that Rodney would surpass Crocodile as a hero, protecting and saving even more lives. If his actions were spread, countless lives could be spared.

"No, it's just a small deed. I have more important matters to attend to," Rodney replied as he raised the sail and left with the sand sled.

The boss watched his departure, firmly believing that Rodney's name would be known by everyone in Alabasta.

...

Not long after leaving Katorea, Rodney halted the sand sled.

In front of him stood a khaki-colored turtle, the size of a house, blocking his path. On the turtle's back sat a seat with a parasol, occupied by a man and a woman.

The man, sporting dreadlocks and sunglasses, wore a brown coat with a white number "5" on the left chest and lower right corner. He resembled a rock singer.

The woman held a small parasol and donned a lemon yellow hip-wrapped skirt featuring a cut lemon logo. She also wore a yellow hat. Her fashionable appearance exuded a sense of satisfaction.

The woman gazed at the arrest warrant in her hand, which displayed Rodney's previous face, and smiled. 

"Ah, I found you. Unfortunately, the arrest warrant has been revoked. Three million bellies would have been a nice pocket change. What a shame."

The man by her side remarked, "Let's not waste time, Miss Valentine's Day. We can complete our mission by eliminating him."

Miss Valentine's Day expressed her displeasure, "Did we come all the way here just to kill this guy? The sun is scorching, and my skin can't bear it."

Mr. 5, with an expressionless face, inserted a finger into his nostril, extracted a booger, and held it between his fingers. He pointed at Rodney and said, "Killing him is simple. It's as easy as this."

With a flick of his fingers, the booger flew through the air.

Bomb Boogie!

Boom!

A powerful explosion ensued, stirring up sand and dust. A kunai with an Explosive Tag soared through the air and lodged itself into their seats. The Explosive Tag ignited, engulfing the seats in flames. Witnessing this, Mr. 5 caught the Explosive Tag with one hand.

The Explosive Tag detonated, but his hand remained unharmed, only turning black.

Proudly, he proclaimed, "I am Mr. 5, the Bomb Human who consumed the Bomb Bomb Fruit. Explosions have no effect on me."

Miss Valentine smiled and remarked, "Is this his final struggle? Mr. 5, how pitiful."

"That's what the weak do. Our mission is complete..." Mr. 5 said, pushing Miss Valentine aside.

Turning around, they noticed Rodney standing there unscathed, wearing a smile on his face. 

"Surprises, motherfucker!" he exclaimed.

Ratoon's Note:

Your sister-is a curse word, whose meaning and usage are as flexible as the English word "fuck".